


I wanted you

by GalaxyGoat



Category: GHOST - Fandom, the band ghost
Genre: F/M, hey i havent written het fic in YEARS i've forgotten what a vagina is and i have one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 03:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGoat/pseuds/GalaxyGoat
Summary: After struggling with absue for so long, Emeritus III finds it difficult to ask someone he loves for something he's needed for so long.Based on an RP with a friend of mine were I write Emeritus and she writes her own OC.





	I wanted you

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: THIS IS THE CHARACTER, NOT THE MAN BEHIND THE MASK

“Something’s on your mind,” she says with concern.

“Something is always on my mind,” he replies with a weak smile.

“Let me take you,” she offers gently.

“Take me,” he agrees. “Please...take me.”

“How shall I take you?” She asks with a smirk.

“Not like this,” he says once he’s been pushed back hard. “Not tonight. Not like this.  _ Per Favore _ …”

“How?” She asks, concerned.

“Like this,” he replies.

A hitch of breath starts this new attempt at their usual bedroom game, him trailing cold fingertips down her body, starting from her chest and trailing gently down her breasts, calculated gaze locked on where his fingers begin to play. She shivers, not used to the sheer patience he’s showing this time, the attention to every detail on her body. Every caress is calculated and planned as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen her.

His mind races.  _ Slow,  _ he thinks, realizing how much he doesn’t understand slow, doesn’t know how to slow down, doesn’t know what to do. 

“More,” she thinks aloud, waiting, watching, inhaling as fingers finally slip down further. That’s it, that’s what he wants, her noises, her moans, her voice muttering his name, his fucking ruined name…

More. He wants more than a fuck, more than  _ fun _ , he wants delicious carnality and sweet, bitter tastes in his mouth. He hesitates just a moment more before his lips finally move up to meet hers. And it’s everything he wants. 

No woman matches her. No man has made him feel what she makes him feel. Others have tried. They’ve wanted to. But he can’t seem to think about them anymore when he’s positioned like this. It’s different than usual. It’s not casual, it’s not quick. It’s slow, disastrous, and the constant fear that one wrong move will make her want to stop is all but keeping him from pushing forward.

“ _ Ti amo, _ ” it’s said breathily, but it’s full of so much adoration and love, more so than he’s ever mustered behind those words before, it’s almost as if he’s never said them before, not once, not until he had her on her back with his fingers inside her, pushing her to accept him with agonizing slowness. 

Her response, his reward, is a hungry nip, a reminder that she’s still starving for his touch, and that she needs so much more than what he’s giving her. She’s always needed this, she realizes, every time they’ve fucked it’s felt lacking and now it’s overwhelming and wonderful and beautiful and mesmerizing and fucking beautiful.

Their bodies become one, entangled in limbs and sheets and whispers for more. She wraps her arms around him repeating the three words he’s the most afraid of to say over and over again in his ears. And for once, he responds, the words silky off his silver tongue, and true, too. She knows they’re true, she knows finally, for once, a man who could never settle for anyone, who let the promise of a good fuck distract him for months at a time, has finally given all of this up for her. Hands tangled in her hair, he kisses her violently and hungry until the contact breaks for a sob. Sex has always been a crutch, a way to prove he’s strong and can handle what anyone can throw at him...but this is enough to break him. 

“It’s okay,” she responds, reaching for his face once the moment becomes too much for him to bear. “It’s okay.”

It’s a mantra repeated over and over again.

_ It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. _

_ I still love you. _

“I love you,” whispered in a language he knows she can understand, the break enough for him to pull it together. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she repeats, resting her forehead on his, letting him take the time he needs, letting the scared, broken fool she’s fallen for regaining his composure. He sighs, defeated by his own crippled emotions, but he doesn’t quite give in just yet. Taking a moment, he tips her chin back up, meeting her mouth once again as his rhythm continues. She’s receptive, welcoming him back into her, her stomach hot and hungry for what’s to come. 

The night draws forward as his thrusts reach their breaking point. She cries out, hands clawed into his sweaty hair, murmuring in his ear to come, to bring her to climax, all of it gentle pushes. He complies, too, hand moving to grip her leg tightly as he curls into her, letting the animalistic carnality of what they’re doing take complete control. There’s no move to pull out, no move to try and find something else to come into, instead, he shivers as aftershocks roll through him to give her just enough of a push to join him.

And in the end...it’s silence. Despite feeling worn to the bone, his breathing is quiet and shallow as he pulls out and crawls over her to rest on her breast. It takes her a moment before she finally reaches to pet his hair, giving him the intense affection she knows he’s going to seek.

“You wanted this?” She asks, finally, with a laugh.

“No,” he murmurs, tucking his head into her. “I wanted you.”


End file.
